If things were like back then
by pureotaku434
Summary: Mother's day oneshot! Canada and America plan a surprise for England.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, nor the characters.**

**Also, Happy Mother's Day!**

* * *

Two pairs of small bare feet pattered down the large staircase. Two small blonde boys walked quietly across the room, and into the kitchen. The marbled alabaster floor chilled their feet, but they continued to travel through the kitchen, hand in hand.

"Alfred," A voice squeaked, "Are you sure we can make breakfast? It seems hard." One boy had pointed out, his hair slightly longer than the second's, and he had violet eyes paired with his darker summer-orange hair.

"Yeah, yeah Matthew! It's fine, how hard could it be?!" The other both, a bit more anxious, reassured him. "Would I lie?"

"But Alfred, you lie all the time!" Came the reply. He watched nervously as Alfred pulled a chair over to the table, and climed onto it before steadying himself at last. "Matthew, get some food, okay?" He cried down to the more hesitant fellow.

Matthew stared up at Alfred's anxious look before giving a small nod and walking towards the refrigerator. He stood on his tip-toes, and pulled on the handle with great effot. After he had managed to get it open, he was ordered some ingredients out. "O-Okay, Alfred. I got the things you asked for. Be careful, alright?" Matthew warned softly.

Alfred gave his brother a hard stare before turning back to the plate he had gotten out. "I see England make eggs and bacon all the time! I can do it!" He said anxiously, smiling towards him before cracking two eggs messily on the plate, and taking out practically the entire pack of bacon, all still stuck together. "Look! It wasn't that hard, right!"

"Alfred," Matthew stared at the plate nervously, "that doesn't look right."

"Quiet Matthew, I know what i'm doing!" Alfred ordered. "Matthew, you didn't get out my pie I made for England."

"What pie?" The boy questioned.

"_My_ pie! Nevermind, i'll get it! You pick up all that stuff and wake for me so we can go upstairs, okay?" Alfred sighed, jumping down from the chair and walking towards the refridgerator yet again, but this time taking out a frozen mess of mud, and dirt clumped together with grass, and some worms sticking from it. It was all stuck in a pie pan, and Alfred proudly showed his brother, who looked sick. "Look! I made it all by myself!" He said cheerfully.

"I-I see, Alfred... It looks great..." Matthew swallowed, forcing a smile. "What kind of pie is it?"

"It's a mud pie! England likes pies, so I made him one!" Alfred continued, a bright gleam in his clear blue eyes. "Let's go already, Matthew!"

Matthew swallowed again before nodding, and he took small steps towards the stairs, careful not to drop the plate. It squeaked once in a while whenever the plate jiggled, or felt close to falling much to Alfred's annoyance. Eventually, the two made it upstairs, and were heading over to another room, straight ahead.

"Ready, Matthew?" Alfred asked, waiting at the front of the door, preparing to swing it open.

Matthew nodded quietly and walked in as Alfred opened the door for the both of them. Matthew stopped at the end of the bed, and he placed the plate on the end of the it, heaving himself up and helping Alfred in the process. He dragged the plate over to a sleeping lump in the center of the bed, and he sat there, tugging on it. "Wake up, please." He said politely.

"Do it like this, Matthew! Wake up!" Alfred screamed at the lump before it jumped, nearly knocking over the plate, and pie, but fortunately didn't. The lump stirred for a while until a tired man rose from it.

"Matthew? Alfred? What's the meaning of this?" He warned, rubbing his tired emerald eyes.

"Happy Mother's day!" The two chimed, hugging the tired man. "We love you, England!" Alfred chimed, with a nod from Matthew.

England stared down at the two before smiling. He then cringed as Matthew and Alfred showed him his 'breakfast'. "T-Thank you... I have a better idea though. How about I make the breakfast, and we can eat it together?" He said nervously, even though his cooking wasn't any better.

Alfred stared at England with bright blue eyes before smiling widely and nodding. "Totally! Okay! But can we have some burgers for breakfast?" Alfred asked, tugging on England's shirt.

"Hamburgers for breakfast?" England looked digusted. "If you want..."

Matthew never really enjoyed England's cooking, but he had kept it down this long. Why stop now especially when he was offering food. "What aobut some pancakes with maple syrup?" He chimed, pulling gently on England's sleeve.

England stared down at Matthew with a grin. "Alright. Insteresting combination, but it'll can help." England said, pulling the sheets off of him and he began to walk downstairs.

"Wait!" Alfred suddenly yelled, racing after England who stopped to wait for him as he quickly ran into his room and out with a piece of paper. He caught his breath as Matthew walked over, and Alfred revealed a drawing of him, Matthew, and England. They were all together in a field on a sunny day. "I made this too!"

England took the picture and smiled before walking downstairs again, and taking a empty picture frame, and placing the picture inside. "There's only one place for this." England placed it in the center of the table, ruffling Alfred's hair as he passed him to walk to the kitchen again and vanished inside.

* * *

England sighed, staring up at a photo perched on the wall. He frowned, his arms folded behind his back neatly. "Hmph," He grunted, looking away angrily. "I take care of there lazy behinds for _years_, and this is how they repay me? They use to be adorable as kids, now ones a over-sized american, and the other's so unoticable, you can't even tell if he's visible or America. Independent my behind!" England continued ranting on before he was interrupted by a knock at the door. He stormed over to the door before snatching it open. "What do you w-" He began yelling angrily without knowing who was there, until he was interrupted yet again.

"Happy Mother's Day!" Two fimilar faces shouted, one wrapping his arms around the both of them.

"So you decided to show up, hmm?" England snorted, glaring at the two.

"Love ya, ma!" Alfred, or America, had winked to England. "Wanna make me a burger?"

"What are you talking about? You come to my home, interrupt me in my thoughts, hug me, than ask me for a bloody hamburger! You're insane! Get out of here you idioits!" England shouted, shoving America away.

"Aw, is mommy mad at us for not visiting sooner?" America teased, snickering as England began lecturing him angrily.

"Was it something he said?" Canada asked nervously, watching the two.

"Who are you?" Kumajirou asked innocently.

"I'm Canada." Canada answered, and smiled nervously.

* * *

Seconds turned into minutes, which turned into hours of arguing. Canada had decided to go home, as well as America. England grumbled a few words under his breath as he stormed into his home, and plopped down into a chair. "Pfft... Stupid american! Moron... left me alone after he became independent, though he still needs me! If he would visit more oftten, i'd probably go easier on him." He growled, glaring down at a picture on the table. "If only things could be as they were before..."

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Not entirely proud of this one. It's pretty short, and it's plot was scattered yet again. I guess England just misses the company of Canada and America on Mother's day. And Canada and America always felt a motherly vibe from England. Hence, Mother's day. It's also Mother's day! .3. It was crappy, but it's like 4:43 am where I am. I deserve a break. And yes, I did screw up history. Canada was there with America and England, just because I happen to like Canada and his possible bond with America! I like the idea of England taking care of America and Canada until they became independent, but somehow I absolutely hate the FACE family.**_

_**Anyway, I don't blame you if you partically like this Oneshot, I don't either, but it's cool if you like it too! I'll right better stuff don't worry. I always seem to right terrible things when I'm tired, but I dream of great plots when I'm asleep... Strange process that'll never understand.**_


End file.
